The Rift Between Us
by ColonelKillaBee
Summary: The Inquisitor gets creative... A reminiscing over better times as the Herald of Andraste, Vivienne, Iron Bull and Dorian get closer to Val Royeaux to reclaim the Seeker before she becomes Divine. This is the third part of their story and there will be more to come.


"Boss. Boss! Wake up!"

"Nnnh, go awaaay..." said the Herald. He ordered the group to double time it to Val Royeaux, but out of the four of them, he was the one that seemed to suffer the most. By the time they finally decided to make camp next to an old road that lead to the city, it was dark, and the Herald passed out as soon as his head hit the ground. Until...

"I said wake up!"

Before the Inquisitor could protest further, the Qunari did the one thing that he told him not to do. Pick him up like a child.

As the ox-man toted him out from his tent, Trevelyan said, "I'm gonna saw these horns off your head in your sleep!" He elbowed Iron Bull in his temple a few times before poking him in his good eye, which finally did the trick. On his feet again, he said, "What the hell is all this about?"

"Aw, is it over? I was content to keep watching, but I thought I was the only one that gets lifted by big strong types around here?" Of course, that was Dorian, poking a curious finely sculpted head from out of his tent.

"Next time, Dory. Promise."

"Sorry to cut in, lovebirds. But what the hell is wrong with you?"

"I want a sparring partner of course."

Trevelyan looked at him incredulously. "At this time of night? I'd rather get my rest, I'll be dealing with old chantry ladies all day tomorrow..."

"Which is why you need to work out your aggression now, boss. Trust me."

"Well, I'm up now and I can't go back to sleep, so you might as well give it a go, Herald. Maybe it can work something else out too..."

The Herald ran a hand through his long blonde hair the way he always did when he was bashful. "What are you insinuating exactly? That I can't go a night or two without being with Cassandra? That's ridiculous. We're not animals, we can control ourselves."

Iron Bull cleared his throat and said, "Oho really? Sera painted a very different picture to us..."

"I'm going to hang that elf up by her ears... ugh. Listen, Cass and I aren't like that. We're more than that. We're..."

He paused, unable to put in words what he was trying to convey. How do you tell another that you feel like your soul is laid bare when you stare into her eyes? That every word she speaks is like the smell of honey in the breeze. He certainly couldn't tell them that the last time they made love, when he was already spent and his cock gone limp, that he stayed there nuzzling her nose and the scar on her wet tear covered cheek, because it was the feeling of ultimate nearness that he loved the most about being with her, rather than the ecstasy she brought him. Though that part was certainly a plus.

His mind went back to the tears now, and how he matched hers. The taste of salt between sorrowful kisses. She was the only woman that he ever let see him so weak. Not that he had much of a choice. Even now with his mission to reclaim her before the chantry sank their talons in her hide for good, he couldn't help but feel as though it was fruitless. And that their last night together was truly their last.

"Nevermind. You said you wished to spar, so lets spar. Will Vivienne be bothered with all the noise?"

"Who, that bitch?"

"Hey, Bull, she'll hear you!" said Dorian in harsh whispers.

"She can't hear me, she's got the inside of her tent covered in silence wards. Said she couldn't handle my snoring. Whatever."

"I can hear everything you're saying, and I think a good spar will do the Herald some good. Do have fun, my dear. Try not to kill him before I get the chance." None of them were certain she was joking.

"Told you," said Dorian.

"Ooh, uh, I knew she could hear, I was kidding..."

"We gonna stand around chattering like housewives or are we going to do this? No weapons, just fists." Trevelyan yanked his shirt off and cast it aside in the grass, dancing on the balls of his feet, ready to go.

Iron Bull laughed and said, "You sure? Just fists? Maybe you should put your armor on f-"

Trevelyan cut him off with a swift jab before dancing away. "You won't be able to touch me."

Iron-Bull lost his grin. "If that's how you want it. Remember, I'm not Cassandra."

"I'll be sure to tell her you said that after I kick your ass. I'm sure she'll want her turn too," said Trevelyan.

"More than enough Bull to go around," said Dorian, smirking from the sidelines.

The Herald was committed to do what he promised, but even this failed to get his mind off of that fiery Seeker. Especially when Bull referenced a day that lead to one of his favorite moments with her.

It was on a night just like this one. Cool, dry. The sky clear, minus the clouds that surrounded the scar from the breach, that is. And Cassandra, Cassandra was in his face as usual, making sure he stayed in shape, with her boot as the hammer and chisel.

"Is that all you can do? Maybe you should try being a mage with that mark, swordplay just isn't your thing," she taunted.

"My sword's already pierced you before, so my sword play must not be so bad after all," said Trevelyan, laughing before dodging an upper cut that took off an inch of his hair. Cassandra caught his fist in her gut, but returned the attack with a smack from her shield. The Herald managed to boot her away before she could follow up, however.

Now it was her turn to laugh. "Haha, Cullen was saying you could use a haircut. A little off the top never hurt anyone."

"I agree," he said, snickering as he pointed his sword. Cassandra looked up for a split second against her will, the idea of losing any of the little hair she had not at all ideal. She figured he was tricking her of course, but that split second was enough to close in and catch her off guard. She blocked the first blow, then the second from his shield. Arms locked, Trevelyan assaulted her scarred cheek and her lips with his before dashing away to avoid her headbutt.

"Hahaha, now. You missed me, but I already kissed thee... so what do I get now instead?"

"Grrrah!" Cassandra suddenly switched hands, holding her sword on the left and her shield on the right, a seamless transition for one who was ambidextrous like her.

Trevelyan was amused, though he had to admit it was considerably harder fighting her like this, as the sweat of his brow soon attested to. He made a jab for her chest, but Cassandra easily slapped it aside now that her sword was on the same side as his. After following up with a smack to his face with her shield, and as his blade flew from his hand, Cassandra closed in with a grin on her face. The Herald did the only thing he could.

Dropping to the ground on his back, Trevelyan kicked hard at her front leg, knocking her off balance immediately while the momentum made her drop on top of him. They rolled around for a while until her shield was beneath them and the Inquisitor had her pinned. She still had her sword, but before she could lift it, his fade touched hand had her pinned as well. It was over.

"I win," said the Herald, smiling down at her with those same blue eyes, brighter than any of the stars that illuminated the night sky behind him.

Grabbing his coat's red collar with her free hand, she said, "I'm not so sure," smiling mischievously as she pulled him down where her lips could reach him.

Iron Bull and Solas were still asleep at camp, so she knew she could have her way with him. She knew what was on his mind from the motions in his hips, which she encouraged with her own. Before she knew it, she had his belt unfastened, but when his hands moved to do the same for her, she put a hand to his chest and said, "Wait. Stop."

"This again?" he said, grinning down at her before moving close once more.

"No, I mean it this time. This... isn't how I want this. I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me."

Sitting up, he played it off and said, "Well, nothing yet. Heh, don't worry. I understand."

Cassandra smiled before scooting close, laying her head on his shoulder before closing her eyes. "I'm just not used to all of this. We're like a couple of irresponsible teenagers."

"Like those kids back at the dam in Crestwood?"

"Hmph, yes. Exactly like that. You should have been more stern with them, Trev."

He turned towards her as his head rested on hers, running his left finger over her cheek. "Come now, I know you understand the attraction to danger. We're warriors after all, are we not?"

Smiling softly at his touch, she opened her right eye slightly, peering into the mark on his palm. "Yes. I get it," she said. "You yourself are a dangerous man. Even before this thing was placed on your hand. Am I right?"

"What makes you say that?" he asked, running a hand through his blonde hair...

Running her hand over his face this time, she said, "The scar over your eye. How did you get it?"

The Herald touched it briefly, exhaling in relief and said, "This? I don't remember exactly, to be honest. It must have happened in the fade after the conclave. It wasn't there before. Maybe from one of those spiders..."

Cassandra's eyes widened like those of owls in rare shock. "Did you really? How appropriate, then."

"How so?"

"It reminds me of the Breach," she said. "The scar in the sky it left with the Breach at its center. How... convenient. That a man like you happened to wander where you did, then emerging with a scar like that. How can anyone doubt. The Maker has marked you in many more ways than this one. Surely you see that."

"I see lots of things," he said after a pause. "I see that the beautiful woman who imprisoned and briefly interrogated me soon became my adviser, lover and friend, for instance. That is the handiwork of the Maker that I have come to know and love."

"You are... too much," she said, closing her eyes again as her cheeks reddened. "Do you truly find me beautiful? Not many have told me that before. I know I what I am. That I seem... rough."

"Of course I do. That scar can't hide your radiant skin, or those adorable expressions you make."

"This again? I am _not _adorable. Stop telling Varric that you think I'm adorable. He... looks at me different now."

Laughing, he said, "But you ARE adorable! The way you bite your lower lip when you're really angry, or that little knot between your brow when you frown. The little half smiles you make."

"Auck, enough already," she said, showing that same little half smile he just mentioned.

"How did you get that scar, anyway?" he asked, granting her mercy from his compliments momentarily.

Sighing, she said, "It depends on who you ask. Some will tell you I got it from the dragon I fought, directly from its own claw as I shielded the Divine from its onslaught. Sometimes, I think it best to let them think what they want."

"Heh, I agree. I admit, I too would like to imagine you got it from a dragon, Pentaghast."

"And I like to imagine that you got yours from some jealous bandit who wanted your eyes. They are so beautiful, you know."

"I do," he said, smirking. That got a disgusted scoff from Cassandra, and a laugh from him. "I love when you do that."

"I bet you love when I hit you as well," she said.

"But of course. It's exciting."

"I'll be sure to remember not to stop, then," she said as she took his hand into hers.

Watching her expression as the light from his anchor reflected in her eyes, he said, "Does it frighten you, Cassandra? I see the way you look at it sometimes. The way you look at me, when using it."

"Sometimes, yes," She admitted. "How can I not?"

"But weren't you with a mage before? Surely you're used to things like this on some level."

"You are no mage, love. And I was only with him briefly, and a long time ago."

Biting his lip, Trevelyan said, "And you don't miss him? Not even a little? I... heard that mages... you know. Have some interesting tricks..."

Turning to him with blushed cheeks again, she almost couldn't control her laughter. "Are you jealous? And asking me about... No, no, no. It was nothing so fancy... it was all rather... formal."

"Mm, sorry to hear that," he said, smirking to himself.

"Oh I'm sure you are, heh. Hey... wait a minute, why did you smile when you said that? Were you asking me this from experience?"

"What are you asking exactly?" said Trevelyan, running his hand through his hair again.

"You were with a mage too, weren't you? I knew it! You always run your hand through your hair when you're nervous!"

"Cassandra, it was a long time ago, I promise. Back when my parents first tried throwing Templar life on me. I was the youngest, and that was the fate of many bastards and those not first born in the Trevelyan family. Meanwhile I met a girl in Ostwick, an apostate. I saw her working magic to start a fire in secret. She caught me staring, but she wasn't afraid. I promised not to tell... then we talked. Eventually did more than talk and... Anyway, long story short, my family eventually found out after following me. I helped her escape, and told them I would never become a templar... and they never forgave me for it. We shared one night together. Nothing exotic."

She wasn't sure if she believed him, but she kissed him for saying this anyway. "I am sorry."

"Don't be. Like I said, it happened a long time ago. Before Fiona, the magisters and Redcliffe," he said, reminding her of the conscription. "So don't think I regret anything."

Another pause came between them, and for a time the two simply sat beneath the fringe to enjoy eachother's company, Trevelyan kept thinking about her words on his mark however, wishing that she wouldn't be so intimidated by it. Though how could he wish that on her when at times, even he was afraid? Especially him.

"Psst. Still awake?"

"I am..." she said warily. "What's going through that head of yours?"

"Oh nothing. Just wondering if you want to do something stupid and irresponsible like those kids from Crestwood."

"I... hey, wait!" She yelled, as he pulled her along through a nearby forest. Giggling like a young girl the entire way, she let herself be carried along by the man who held her fate in his hands. Ignoring that they'd left their weapons behind momentarily. That only seemed all the more foolish when they finally reached their destination.

Eyes wide again, Cassandra said, "Maker's Bride, what has gotten into you, fool? That is a rift!"

"Shhh, don't worry, we're not close enough for it to bother us," he said. "We'll stay right here behind these trees so we can watch from afar. Look at it. Isn't it beautiful when it's not spewing demons at us?"

"I... suppose..." she said, giggling again when she felt his mouth at her neck from behind her. She jumped at the feeling of his hand at her hips. The mark burst in a sudden surge of energy that sent shivers up her spine. "So that's what it feels like," she said in a whisper, still very much enjoying his kisses at her neck.

"That's what it feels like. Solas told me that it reacts like this any time the fade is especially thin. It feels like an earthquake radiating from the palm of my hands. It gave me an idea. Do you trust me, Pentaghast?"

Eyes still on the green glow before her, and with the shivers up her back paralyzing her, she wrapped an arm around his head and said, "I do."

"Good."

As she continued to watch, Trevelyan quickly stripped them both of their armor, something he'd gotten very proficient at doing for her, then quickly seized her from behind once more. Hands running up and down her shirt, he squeezed and kneaded her breasts, savoring the sound of her moans as he did, and the feeling of her whole body jerking at the feeling of his mark reverberating through her.

He pulled at her earlobes with his lips as his fade touched hand slid slowly down to her loins. His fingers traced over the little bridge between her legs, patting playfully at the chubby mound of flesh he could feel puffed up between his fingers. He gave them a little playful squeeze, and then the mark came to life once more, causing her legs to buckle. She had both hands behind her and around his neck now, holding on for dear life as his fingers taunted her, twisting at her through the fabric and rubbing at her nub until the moistness was thick to the touch.

He could feel the wetness at the back of his hand from her cloth as his fingers crept down beneath her undergarments like a spider over her skin. Slowly, the couple crept a little closer towards the rift, until the light coming from his hand was constant. His fingers played at her nub once more, and the feeling vibrating through them made her unable to concentrate on anything but the burning in her core that begged for him to prod her further like the blade of mercy that ended Andraste's life.

And finally, she too was granted this mercy as his fingers slowly slid between her with the sounds of her wet skin being parted by them. The reaction was almost instant. The feeling awoke something in her she'd never felt so keenly before, and soon she could not see the rift, only blinding white light as her pleasure caused her to grunt and moan loudly into the night. She ground her backside against him hard as his fingers went knuckle deep. Soon, there was no feeling in her legs left, and the Seeker dropped to her knees on the forest floor.

Across from this rift, the two were too busy to notice that a figure with a staff was looking right at them, with eyes so wide they threatened to pop. Or at least, they were wide for him. With red cheeks now of his own, the figure watched briefly and said, "The key, is he... he wouldn't! _Ma inan.."_ before shuffling off in the opposite direction, not looking back.

"Oh Maker, take me..." she said as she laid there, oblivious to any spying eyes, and spreading her own rift between them for deeper excavation. His pants dropped beneath his ankles, and he toyed with her some more. He wriggled a single finger through her before budding at her secret skin with his head before finally slipping past the squish of her inner flesh.

Both their breaths caught at the same time, and the Herald said her name in her ear as he stretched himself over her back. His hand reached around and found her nub again as he moved deeper within. Now he too could feel the vibrations that invaded her wet thick center. It made the hairs at his sack tingle with energy, and brought heat throughout his every fiber. Between this and his thickness between her legs, the shudders from satisfaction came quick, as did he not long after, both with the sight of the rift in their eyes.

Pulling himself out slow as she turned to her back, he watched tentatively as he leaked out from her, running his fingers over it all as he cleaned them in her coarse hairs. Smiling up at him, she grabbed his hand, sucking at his fingers until they were completely clean. Pulling him close so that his greater weight was felt all around her like a heavy and warm blanket, she said, "You better not fail, Trevelyan. Do you understand? You better not let that... freak take you from me."

"Nothing will take you from me, Seeker. I promise."

"Good. Because after that, I don't think I can ever be satisfied with another man," she said, laughing with no inhibition. "That... I don't know what that was. Other worldly."

Kissing at her scarred cheeks before staring into her eyes, he said, "I told you. Danger. I just wanted you to remember something good when you look at my mark. I can't stand seeing you fearful of me, even if it is only a little."

"Your mark isn't you. I could never be afraid of you. Only for you. Because I love you. So promise me again. That you won't let anything get between us."

Before his lips found hers once more, he made that promise easily, not knowing that it was a promise that he almost couldn't keep.

* * *

><p>"LET... GO!" Yelled Iron Bull at the top of his lungs, oblivious to the inner thoughts of the Herald as he gripped the Qunari's horns white knuckle tight.<p>

"I don't think so, big guy, hahah! Hey Dorian, is this what it means to ride the Bull?"

"That's not funny!" Bull yelled as he thrashed around, unable to remove the Inquisitor from his back.

"Ehem... ehem!" said a man suddenly, trying to gain the attention of the... odd group of individuals before him. In a thick Orlesian accent, the man said, "Excuse me, but are you with the Inquisition?"

Finally letting go of Bull, the Herald said, "Aye, that we are. And who's asking?"

"And are you the Inquisitor?" the man asked again.

"Again... aye," said Trevelyan, showing the man his hand. He couldn't see beneath the man's yellow and black mask, but his eyes were completely transfixed on his mark.

"That... is unfortunate for you. Kill them all!" Suddenly, arrows were shot at the group from behind the Orlesian man, but Vivienne burst from the tent in a dash before shrouding them all in her protective wards.

"We should have expected this deary," said the mage as a group of Templars came charging at them to overtake the camp.

"I didn't even know anyone knew we were coming! But no matter, they will die. All of them."

"Oh that's good. Of all the ways I expected to die, being killed by the hands of Templars was not high on my list. They're not even red Templars."

The Inquisitor threw his coat and chainmail on while Dorian and Vivienne kept the Templars at bay. Dorian erected an electrical field, trapping and paralyzing two armored men while forcing the others to go around. Vivienne cut down the first three that went around and got too close with a blade of magic so bright, it seemed to contain the sun that withheld day from them. Their wounds offered no blood, as the magic itself was so intense, it burned the flesh shut as it passed through it. This didn't help any of them as they fell to pieces at her feet, however.

When sword and shield was in hand, the Inquisitor jumped before them both, holding back the men long enough for Bull to jump between them and cause chaos with his great blade. Ignoring the cuts, Iron Bull easily put the soldiers into disarray, and once the formation was broken, they were picked off, thanks to Bull and Trevelyan keeping them out of reach of the mages with their Templar magic.

"Didn't forget about me, did you?" came a voice from behind Vivienne. Turning, they saw the same man with the black and yellow mask with a dagger at her neck. "Back! Back I say! I know you intend to make her Divine! A mage!"

"Don't make any sudden moves. Wouldn't want to do anything stupid, now would we? Again, I should say," said Dorian.

"You keep your mouth shut, or the bitch dies right here and now!" said the man, though it was obvious that he was planning this anyway. Why he chose to take her hostage though, the Herald wasn't sure. "Kill the Inquisitor, then I let her live."

"Ah, so that's why you didn't just kill her outright. That's not happening," said Iron Bull. "You'll just kill her anyway."

"Don't do as I say and she dies right now!"

"Just kill him already," said Vivienne. "I'll be fine."

"No! No you will not, I swear it! I will not allow a mage to be Divine, so long as I draw breath!"

Trevelyan had a twinkle in his eye suddenly when he realized why Vivienne said what she did. The man didn't notice the turquoise spell glowing in her hand...

"As long as you draw breath? Well then lets do something about that," he said, lifting his glowing pulsating hand and pointing straight at the assassin. "Now!" He yelled, just as a rift appeared at the Orlesian's back. Vivienne immediately cast a barrier spell, protecting her from his cut as she broke from his grasp. Before he knew what happened, the Inquisitor was already there, booting his ass into the void of the fade. He screamed the entire way down, but his screams were cut off as the Inquisitor sealed the rift for good.

"Ha! I would have preferred we killed him, but that works as well. No clean up," said Bull.

"Yes yes, it was a neat trick, but now we're only left with questions," said Vivienne. "We should have kept him alive and questioned him first to see who else in the Chantry is out to kill me."

"Wait, weren't you the one that said we should just kill him?" asked Dorian.

"Well, yes, but I was the distraught party in all this, was I not?"

"Seemed pretty calm to me," said Bull. "In any case, she's right. We have no plan and we're going in blind. There could be a lot more assassins out to kill us if they already know our intention. Probably more spies in Skyhold."

"You're wrong, Bull, we do have a plan. We've got men in Val Royeaux, and we have people loyal to us. We're going to rally my soldiers, storm the city, and march right into the heart of the Stormburst throne. We're going to find Cassandra, convince her to put Vivienne on the throne, and I'll do it, even if it means tearing down every last wall of the city, piece by piece. Lets show the Chantry what happens when they anger the Herald of Andraste."

Author's note: I recommend looking up the video "Killswitch Engage - The End of Heartache (HD Lyric Video)" on Youtube. You'll understand when you read the lyrics.


End file.
